


A Fragment From Before

by TheWitchBoy



Category: Teen Titans - All Media Types, The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Allen-Jordan Household, Barry is not allowed to touch the grill, Bisexual Wally West, Dick in ratty hand-me-downs fuels me - Alfred would hate it and I would love it tbh, Dick is a showoff, Gen, Hal stole Barry's shirt, Iris is a gift and should be treasured, M/M, Mention Of Homophobia, Multi, Polyamory implied, Pre-Slash, Wally West deserves a better home life, allen-jordan household - so i guess prolly hal and barry, but i also know only one pair did the wedding thing/exchanged rings/etc, but it might be barry/iris, curse you hal - a man's favourite shirt is important!, i def. know it's a poly thing going on, idek - this might be set up so that hal/barry are married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 13:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12749067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWitchBoy/pseuds/TheWitchBoy
Summary: It wasn’t like they were a “thing.”They were best friends who shared a lot of laughs and personal space. And maybe a little bit of chemistry. Just a little.





	A Fragment From Before

**Author's Note:**

> So, I found this file in my 'Drive. It was labeled "Birdflash - Pre," and I looked at it thinking, "Okay? That's vague?" So I read it and found that I enjoyed it, though I can no longer remember where I was going with it.
> 
> I checked the date I created this particular file, and it was August of 2016, which makes the file over a year old, at the time I'm posting it. I tweaked a few things while reading over it (as I'm wont to do, anyway), but this is "old stuff" and not necessarily me at my best. But it's kind of cute and has some touches I'd like to reuse elsewhere, maybe.
> 
> Mostly, i'm posting this because, hey, if I can enjoy my own year-old work, I figure some of you might, too.
> 
> Also, it's been awhile since I've posted anything and that makes me sad. This isn't TimKon, but it's "something," and two of my definite OTPs are involved (HalBarry and BirdFlash). Gotta rep the OTPs!
> 
> "Rep," pfft.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

It wasn’t like they were a “thing.”

They were best friends who shared a lot of laughs and personal space. And maybe a little bit of chemistry. Just a little.

But when bad things happened Wally was just the first person Dick could think of to turn to. When good things happened, too, in fact. Or nothing in particular. Wally was easy to talk to, easy to be around, and easy to run to.

Which is probably why Dick found himself in Central City, all the way in Missouri, instead of in Gotham, New Jersey. On a school night. Without permission.

“He’s going to ground you until you’re thirty,” Wally said. He didn’t take his eyes off his comic book, though, choosing instead to flip the page slowly and deliberately. No speed anything in the West house. No costume freaks, either. But it wasn’t like Mr. or Mrs. West knew that Dick was a cape. To them, Dick was ‘the nice Wayne boy Wally met during trivia nationals.’ Which was also true.

“He’d ground me until thirty even if I zeta’d back, right now,” Dick retorted. He was busy doing a leisurely one-handed hand-stand on the footboard of Wally’s bed. “So, what’s the point?”

Mrs. West and her notoriously bad timing chose that moment to crack open Wally’s door and peek in on them.

Dick chose to fall back-first onto the bed, and thus Wally. He made a mental note to replace Wally’s comic, later. “Hey, dude!” Wally shoved Dick off himself – and onto the floor – and turned to his mom. “Hey,” he grinned. Yep, comic book definitely ruined.

“Hey,” Mrs. West frowned slightly, looking between Dick and Wally. “I’ve got snacks downstairs, if you’re hungry. A… lot of snacks.”

Wally winced a little. Even acknowledging his metabolism seemed to be against Mr. West’s rules. Dick didn’t get it. But he did get her attempt at subtlety. Wally was supposed to be just “Wally” to his friends, after all (friends who weren’t capes), and “Wally” didn’t have a speedster’s overzealous metabolism to maintain.

“Cool! Thanks Mrs. West!” Dick said, popping up from the other side of the bed. He set his arms on the bed and leaned his chin on the mattress, grinning.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. It was a lot less strained than her last smile. “And please, Richard, call me Mary.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Dick saluted. He hated being called Richard.

Mrs. West chuckled and left.

Dick noticed, though, that she left the door open a crack. He put all his weight on his mattress-bound elbows and flipped himself over his head to land on the mattress, his butt finding the center of the bed and legs coming down on Wally’s abdomen. Wally made a noise of protest, but didn’t shove Dick this time. “So. Snacks.” Dick grinned, leaning his head back to look at the ceiling. “Dude, do you still have glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling?”

“What, you don’t?” Wally scoffed.

“One, I’m sixteen, now, Walls. Two, glow-in-the-dark stars would  _not_ go with the traditional décor and Victorian aesthetic of Wayne Manor. I’ve never had glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling! Alfred would have had my hide!” Dick laughed. “But I’ve got some wicked posters up in my room.”

“I’ve seen your room. And, okay, the vintage posters are cool—”

“Vintage  _circus_ posters.”

“Right. Vintage  _circus_ posters are cool. But they’re framed and hung like any other piece of artwork. It’s almost boring, dude,” Wally said.

“ _Dude_ ,” Dick mocked.

“Dude!” Wally returned.

The both leaned back, cackling. “Oh, right, I’ll replace the comic,” Dick said.

“Nah, it’s cool. I didn’t love it, anyway,” Wally scoffed.

“Let me buy you things,” Dick said. He sat up and poked at Wally’s stomach, and the ridiculous slab of muscle he didn’t deserve, “And, dude, snacks. Your mom?”

“Oh, right. Let’s grab them and eat up here. Or outside. Or… I don’t know. Let’s just…” Wally huffed and swatted at Dick’s hand. “Okay, that tickles. Stop.”

“We could head for Barry’s place,” Dick suggested. He wrapped his arms around his knees. “Then you don’t have to pretend that you’re ‘normal’ and neither of us has to pretend that we don’t both know you’re not ‘normal.’”

“Brilliant idea!” Wally pushed himself into a seated position. “Let’s grab some snacks and head out, then!” He took Dick’s face in his hands and planted an obnoxious kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, for the—gross!” Dick laughed and shoved Wally away. “Holy cooties Batman, yechh.” Dick rubbed his cheek with his sleeve.

“ _Holy cooties Batman_ ,” Wally snickered. He stood up and took the two steps to his door, then turned to watch Dick – the eternal showoff – vault off his bed and into an airborne summersault. “Fancy,” he clapped as Dick stuck the landing. He landed a bit too close to be comfortable, for most people, but Wally was well aware of the Olympiad levels of control Dick had of his body.

Dick took a step back to bow theatrically, then slipped out the door ahead of Wally.

And, okay, Wally knew it was too much to hope that –  _for once in his life_ – Dick wouldn’t vault the staircase or run along the wall or skid down the handrail. Anything like that. But Dick couldn’t resist, especially with the wall-enclosed staircase with its two dinky, carpeted landings that turned on itself and into the living room/dining room area.

Wally watched Dick run at the far wall of the staircase, hop at the handrail on the opposite wall, hop against the first landing’s wall, and backflip out of sight. That probably meant that Mrs. West was about to get an eyeful of circus kid landing in her living room, if not vaulting into a handstand on the back of their couch and doing a backflip over their dining room table.

“Oh!” Mrs. West said. Nothing broke, at least. As far as Wally could hear.

He sighed and hopped down to the first landing, the second landing, and then into the living room. The fastest way down short of running along the walls in classic speedster style.

Dick was on the opposite end of the dining room, looking sheepish and edging for the kitchen. “Hey, man, pretty sure I told you ‘no footprints on the walls,’” Wally joked.

“I’m in my socks!” Dick defended. He crossed his arms and bristled. Yes. This nerd was sixteen and the model of maturity. Definitely.

“Kidding, dude. Sorry, Mom. You know gymnasts, am I right? Pure showoffs,” Wally grinned at his mom, beelined at the kitchen, and picked up a cookie. Just one. It was a great show of restraint. Dick walked over and picked up maybe ten or fifteen cookies, shoving them into his hoodie pockets and taking a bite of one of them. “They’re awesome, right?” Wally grinned. The pocketed cookies were definitely for him. Mrs. West didn’t need to know that.

“Tch. Yeah!” Dick laughed.

Wally gave him a light punch on the shoulder. “Mom, we’re going out,” he said.

Mrs. West looked conflicted, very conflicted, for a split second. Wally’s smile twitched a bit. Clearly what he said and what she thought he meant were two different things.

“Yeah, we’re heading out to catch a movie or something. Maybe visit that new chili dog stand I’ve been hearing so much about by the fast food connoisseur that is your son,” Dick offered, perhaps a bit quickly. “Bro, I’m dragging you around until you show me everything!”

“That would take days,” Wally groaned. He picked up a second and third cookie.

Mrs. West frowned a little, but didn’t comment. But Dick stuffing his pockets didn’t even cause her to bat an eyelash.

“Okay! Let’s get moving! Couple of days? We clearly need to get a good head start on that,” Dick said. He took Wally’s elbow and half-dragged him to the door. As soon as the door was closed behind them, he turned mildly horrified eyes to Wally. “One, that was  _not_ cool. Two, I’m still in my socks!”

“Ah, gotcha,” Wally opened the door, slid back inside with profuse apologies, and slid back out with shoes, Dick’s messenger bag, and his own jacket. They sat on the stoop to put their shoes on. “What’s not cool? Cinnamon raisin cookies?”

“Those are a bit weird, but okay. No, I mean the looks, the cracked open door, the horror, that stuff. Your mom is awful… wary,” Dick stood up and stretched, then leaned back until his palms were touching the ground behind his heels.

“Stop that, people will stare!” Wally laughed.

“Pfft, no fun,” Dick righted himself and put his hands on his hips. “So?”

“Oh, uh. I told Mom that I was bi,” Wally gave a weak shrug. “I thought she’d… I don’t know. Be supportive? Accepting? Something.”

“And?”

“And it turns out that I’m forbidden from bringing boys home, ever, and that I’m not allowed to tell my dad that I’m bi. No big deal. He’s just…” Wally shrugged and stood up.

“A homophobe,” Dick suggested.

“Sensitive to nonheteronormative tendencies,” Wally returned.

“A. Homophobe.”

“Yeah, okay, or that,” Wally gave a nervous laugh. “And I guess I talk about you a bit. Mom suddenly got super touchy about any boy I talk about. Even Uncle Barry. And, okay, that’s so offensive, you have no idea. He’s my Uncle? God.” His nervous smile left as he stuck his tongue out exaggeratedly.

“So. Us hanging out could be a problem?” Dick ventured. At the same time, though, he took Wally’s elbow again and drew him toward the sidewalk. After they got to the sidewalk, he wrapped himself around Wally’s elbow like an old-timey lovesick lady.

“Maybe? Dunno,” Wally laughed and watched Dick lean his head against Wally’s shoulder. “If you keep doing stuff like this, anyway.”

“If your mom’s so worried, get a girlfriend,” Dick suggested.

Wally gave an exaggerated sigh and started down the sidewalk with Dick. “That’s work. I don’t want to do the work unless it’s worth it, and it’s only worth it if it’s something I actually want. I can’t just go girl-shopping!”

“Okay. Who are you and what have you done with Mr. Wallace Incessant Flirt West? He may have been annoying, but he was my friend, sir!” Dick said.

“Wow, I knew there had to be a reason for your nickname…”

Dick snorted, detached himself from Wally’s elbow, and gave him a solid punch to the shoulder. He didn’t really want Wally to get a girlfriend, anyway. That would have been inconvenient and so uncool. “Whatever, man. You’re probably right,” Dick said. “About girl-shopping, I mean. That would be demeaning, for one. And bromance before romance, or I swear to Batman’s tiny bat-ears, I will have your hide.”

“Bromance before romance,” Wally managed to echo. He couldn’t quite keep a straight face, though.

\--

Iris was thrilled to see Wally and Dick. She was always thrilled to see Wally, of course. That was the kind of aunt she was.

Barry, on the other hand, took a double take at Dick and his ratty Gotham U hoodie sweatshirt (from Bruce’s college-hopping days) and then gave one of those mildly apprehensive smiles that Dick had seen one time too many. Barry was thinking about the Bat’s wrath.

“Hey I, Hey B,” Dick greeted.

Iris wrapped him in a hug that never failed to remind him of his mother. He returned the hug warmly. “Dick, Wally,” she said, pulling Wally into the embrace. “Two of my absolute favourite boys.” She released them, just short of the discomfort phase of a long hug. “What brings you here?”

“Change of pace,” Dick shrugged. “And cabinets one hundred percent ready to fill up a speedster, but leave enough left over for a poor, hungry guest.”

Iris laughed at that. Wally shifted embarrassedly.

“Well,” Iris put her hands on her hips and smiled at Dick. She used to smile down at him, but he’d had a growth spurt, recently, and was almost as tall as Wally (who’d also had a growth spurt). Iris was no longer significantly taller than him. “If there’s one thing you can say about the Allen-Jordan household, it’s that we always have food on hand for speedsters and guests, alike.”

Allen-Jordan. That was new. Dick wanted to ask, but didn’t think it was the right time to inject a question about property ownership or relationship status. He filed it away for later, in hopes that an opportunity would present itself.

Barry clapped his hands together. “Does this mean I get to try out the grill? Please say I get to try out the new grill!”

Iris rolled her eyes. “Barry, hon, don’t you think we should leave grilling to someone with more experience?” she asked.

“Oh, I can figure it out!” Barry said.

“Or…” Iris trailed off, trying to give Barry a meaningful look.

“Or you can leave it to someone who’s not going to blow half a paycheck on figuring it out and wasting our franks.” Hal walked around the corner, his Lantern ring was visible on his finger and he was wearing clothing that made him look like a money-challenged college student. A ratty gray shirt with long sleeves and a NASA logo on it (and holes in the wrists, presumably for his thumbs, but which looked unintentional), the rattiest and most hole-littered pair of jeans Dick had seen outside of Jason’s dresser, and a pair of beat up, off brand high tops. His hair was mussed, too.

“I wouldn’t blow half of a paycheck!” Barry argued.

“Not half of mine,” Hal agreed. “Half of yours, though. Just leave it to me. Hey Dickie, Walls,” he raised a hand and received high fives from both boys. “Welcome to the castle.”

“Hey wait,” Barry muttered. “That’s my… Hal!”

“I rooted through the laundry and it was the first shirt I found! Honest!” Hal was already mid-retreat, though.

Wally wondered if the “Allen-Jordan” part of the household’s name was why Rudy and Mary, his parents, didn’t arrange big family dinners, anymore. Not that he minded much. Iris still put together the big speedster get-togethers, and helped arrange Allen and West get-togethers (and maybe Jordan ones, now?). Wally had always preferred the events his Aunt arranged. Especially when it meant spending another day with the Garricks. Iris’ events were big, fun, and free from the stifling atmosphere that was often generated by the more conservative parts of the West family.

Dick elbowed Wally. “Never seen you so slow to react,” he teased. There was worry there, behind Dick’s bright eyes, but he was smiling and pulling his sunglasses down over his eyes, from their resting place in his shaggy hair.

“You need a haircut,” Wally shot back.

“That is the worst comeback. It’s not even related to what I said,” Dick snorted, “Come on, Walls, let’s go see if Hal can get something in your tank. You’ve ate surprisingly little since I arrived at your place, man. You okay?”

“Oh, yeah. You know my mom and dad. Gotta tone down the ‘freak’ at home,” Wally waved Dick off.

“Uh. That’s my best friend you’re talking about. Don’t call him a freak,” Dick said.

“You are so lame.”

“You love it.”

“Lame,” Wally put his hands behind his head and walked past Dick, headed for the glass doors that would lead into the back yard. “So lame.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, I came to ship Iris and Eddie pretty hard, since watching Season One of the CW's Flash, so you aren't all that likely to see Hal/Barry/Iris polyamory in future works. You might? But I like Eddie too much and prefer to just kind of... rewrite that whole "died" thing because I can.
> 
> Another semi-fun fact: way before Rebirth gave us the Two Wallys, I actually was using that theme in a HalBarry fic's underlying premise, because I kind of felt bad about leaving Linda Wally-less! So, if you ever see both Wallys around my fics, you'll have "my" Wally (redhead, called "Wally") and "the other" Wally (not a redhead, called "Ace").
> 
> (I took it hardest that n52 Walls wasn't a redhead, guys. Black kid with red hair would have been awesome, okay? stoptakingmyredheadsaway. So yeah. Upset about redhead negligence. Before ever getting pissed off about my science baby being relegated to a rebellious stereotype that put me almost completely off n52 Flash things -- except that I needed to get my Flash Fix somewhere, so I read a bit more, anyway.)
> 
> *cough* was there a point to this? I think I just wanted to ramble. Whatever.
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoyed the fic!


End file.
